Blue Devil:DCF - Rising
by BioHaz
Summary: Blue Devil faces horrors he never even dreamed of. Both within and without...
1. Default Chapter Title

"Tarot Card Reading, 3 creds," Mike Ashton soundlessly mouthed. 

Downtown New Orleans was the pit of sin. Think of Mardi Gras back in the TwenCen happening every day. Beads flew from balconies, liquor ran like water, and anyone could find companionship for the night. The Big Easy ran the cutting edge of technology, fusing it into the ancient infrastructure to create a city like none other in the NorAm. Merging the two dogmas into one, anyone could find anything here, no matter how ludicrous. 

However, the darker corners of New Orleans still housed the ghouls. The supernatural element had never left New Orleans during its technological boom. No, they just found new places to hide. Like in plain sight. 

Mike pushed the door open effortlessly, a worn bell chiming to announce his entrance. Slightly beaten and tired, Mike's shoulders sank as he moved across the foyer, taking a city at one of the many empty chairs. Mike's stoic nature was screaming at him, 'What are you doing here? You don't believe in this hocus pocus bullshit! Get up, man!!' The voice fell on deaf ears. Something felt right to Mike while he sat here, waiting his turn. Something told him he needed to be here. 

Aston's eyes wondered around the room, noting the different 'artifacts' on display for the tourists that found themselves here. Mike looked on as the beaded curtain separating this room from next waved in the light breeze from the ac unit overhead. More fake images and trinkets adorned the walls and shelves of the waiting area. 'More reasons I shouldn't be sitting here.' 

Yet Mike continued to sit, staring at the room as if he was destined to be here. "Mr. Ashton, please come in and take a seat," a feminine voice said from beyond the beaded barrier. 

Perhaps he was destined to be here, Mike thought as he stood. 

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**BLUE DEVIL:DCF Limited Series #1   
"Cha-Cha-Changes"   
Written by: Alex 'BioHaz' Cook  
Edited by: Jason Tippitt **

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Continuity notes: You need to have read 'POX', and the first Blue Devil One-shot to make any sense of this. 

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A jade needle perched above creamy white flesh, the delicate bone structure of her neck noticeable. Wisps of brown hair fell over the exposed neck. The needle dripped black ink from its sharp end as it came closer to the flesh. 

'I will be flesh,' an ancient voice thought, the female lying on her stomach hearing the voice in her head. 

Glyphs of Japanese adorned the room the girl lay in. The needle hovered above the women's neck of its own accord, nothing holding it in the air. It raised, then arched downward, deep into the girl's flesh. A gasp of surprise and pain came from her tightly closed lips. 

"And I will be your servant," the women said in a pain-filled voice as a circle with glyphs around it began to take shape on her skin, the ink traveling of its own accord. 

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"Change. I see great change." 

The woman in front of Mike sat on top her chair with a grace and ease not many could pull off. She effortlessly dealt out the Tarot cards, quickly starting with a three-card reading. 

Her long fingers flipped over the Ace of Wands first, pausing before turning the next two over in rapid succession. The Magician followed the Ace, and finally the 2 of Cups fell to the table. 

"Yes, I was right. Your life has experienced a great change. A change you do not understand." Her huge doe-like blue eyes looked up at Mike's worn face, as if he was about to provide her with more information. Mike sat still, his face as unreadable as ever. 

His mind was a whirl. That was the way Mike worked his psyche, a flurry of activity while his body stayed passive. An introvert by nature, Mike enjoyed analyzing things, calculating the outcomes, spending time exercising his mind. Emotions weren't an area he had much experience in, for the simple reason that they didn't interest him. No painful childhood or anything; he had decided long ago that logic could lead to a better outcome over emotion. That was a law he lived his life by to this day. 

And here he sat, having his fortune told, which by all definitions defies logic. Then the calculating mind started wandering, thinking back. Back to the visions. Back to the night a week ago when the face that looked back at him form the mirror was not his own. 

Back when everything had changed. 

"Something new has happened in your life. A new relationship, one that is leading to personal growth for you. I see that this change will bring about conflict, but the Magician card here," which she pointed to as she talked, "shows you should be able to overcome it." 

Mike glanced down at the cards, thinking of the meanings behind the fortuneteller's words. "All you can tell me is something has changed?" Mike finally asked. 

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"Yes, change. As in, change position now or else you're going to set off the fucking alarm, Helena!" Donut screamed into the mike. Helena was pushing it again, as she always did, he added. 

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Donut; I've almost got the interface," Manhunter whispered into the microphone connecting her to Donut. 

Donut watched as the heat imaging software rendered the image of Helena extending her leg over a thigh high laser beam as she reached for the glass case just beyond it. 'The wonders of technology,' Donut thought as his blind eyes 'watched' Helena crack open the casing. 

"Why am I stealing this again?" Helena asked in mid-swipe, her body still juxtaposed above the array of alarm lasers. She continued to cut an entryway into the case as Donut sighed. 

"The Concord ONYX VR Interface is as top-of-the-line as it gets right now. I aim to make it better, for a nice profit," Donut said. "Which I've told you three times now." 

As Helena pulled the Onyx Interface from its holding cell, she smirked, "And what's my cut again?" 

"Cut? Chalk this up in the favor category, luv. Think of us as even for all those years of me watching your ass," Donut answered. 

"Gee... In that case, I guess I'll just--" 

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"Proceed as planned." 

The communication was short and sweet. It left the three gathered in the private cyperscape unfulfilled. The answers they sought were nowhere to be found. 

"It nears completion. Phase one and two are complete," the older man said, breaking the silence. His avatar resembled that of a grandfather from a Norman Rockwell painting, right down to the peaking amount of gray hair on the sides of his head. The glasses perched on his nose finished off the image. 

"At what cost, though?" the female opposite him asked, her blonde hair framing her freckled face. Her avatar appeared as if it were a cheerleader, pom poms and all. 

"The cost is justified by the end result," the man in between the two finished. His avatar was the most varied, appearing as a youthful Goth with a serious affection for leather. 

"Is death so easily disregarded by you, Lestat?" the cheerleader asked, shocked. "Each life has value, damn it, and this wanton string of killing is not worth any price." 

"Don't lecture me on feelings or moral conviction, Courtney. A) There have been two killings, one definite, one supposed. 'Wanton' is not a word I would use to describe what has happened. B) We are all involved in this for different reasons, but we all know we have no choice in it. No choice any more," Lestat stated, his tone baiting anyone to dispute what he said. His hand wandered to the base of his neck, scratching it lightly. Lestat thought of the tattoo placed there so long ago. 

"Quit your fighting. Time is not something that is on our side. IT won't wait much longer," the first male said. 

"Gramps, you're next. We're waiting on you," Lestat responded as his avatar faded from the cyperscape they had all met in. 

"Yeah, me," Gramps said as he too left. 

Courtney remained, thinking about what had led her here. 

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"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!" 

Donut watched through the lenses in Helena's visor as her head swung to the left, eyes looking in horror as local security forces ran into the room. 

Manhunter didn't continue the jab at Donut. Instead she ran the opposite direction, fast. Helena ducked around a corner and jumped high. Reaching out, her gloves fingertips shimmered slightly as the suction cups slid into place. Affixing herself to the wall, Manhunter scrambled up to the ceiling and ducked into a shadowed corner some thirty feet up. The security detail ran right under her. 

Manhunter dropped down once she was sure the detail was gone. Helena turned out to be wrong. 

A man standing 6'5" easy bear-hugged Manhunter, huge biceps squeezing the air out of her. 

Shaw's head shot back, connecting with the giant's chin. Feeling the arms loosen, Helena fought her way free, falling to the ground. 

Rolling out of reach, Helena came up with baton at a ready position. Her trained eyes took in her opponent, her mind already guessing weak points. The attacker moved around slowly, watching Helena in the same way. 

Helena decided she wasn't in the mood to play. "I bet you're hired muscle to make up for certain... areas," she said with a smile, the tone carrying her intended sarcastic insult to the thug's ears. 

Blood rushed to his face as he bolted forward, running full-force at Manhunter. Helena giggled, sidestepped, and swung with her baton, the end of which connected with the man's crotch. The man crumpled to the ground with barely a whimper, out cold from the pain. "Gets them every time," Manhunter said as she walked out of the warehouse. 

"Talk about a low blow, Helena! That was just downright awful!" Donut said, squirming in his chair. 

"I can always return the interface if you disapprove of my methods," Manhunter chided. Donut's silence told her all she needed to hear. "You so owe me." Manhunter whispered as her hover car sped off, auto pilot taking it home. 

Donut smiled. "No shit, add it to my tab," he said in response, closing the connection and smiling. All in a day's work, he mused. 

The alarms ringing through out Donut's workshop warned him that this day was far from over. 

After reading the screen, the blind man's eyes widened in surprise. "Personality copy?" 

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"Personality is a huge part of this, Mike," the fortuneteller continued. "The cards deal themselves according to the person. I simply tell you what they say." 

"And all they are saying is change?" Mike finished. 

"It all depends on what you believe, Mike. It all depends on you. These pieces of cardboard don't have the answers; they just point you towards the answers." The reader shifted forward, bringing her hand to rest on Mike's wrist, as if to stop him from bolting. 

The mystic didn't notice anything, or perhaps she didn't see it at all, but something happened to Mike as soon as the female hand touched his arm. Power blazed to life around the teller's hand, sparking and thrashing around. Then with a bang, the power subsided, the energy dissipating and disappearing. 

Then the visions started, fast and strong. A turret of images splashed in Mike's mind's eye. A lizard of immense height turned its head to look at Mike, pulling its talons up to show off a ballerina turning in its palm. The huge hand closed, cracking and destroying the twirling figure. 

A gravestone replaced the picture of the lizard, the name worn off by the weather. The ground surrounding the headstone quakes and trembles, a portion of it breaking out from the ground. Bits and clods of dirt were pushed further as if something below the ground was trying to get out. A hand broke through the soil, flexing as it feels the air on its decomposed flesh. An odd shape was shown next. A circle framed by almost oriental glyphs, the ends merging into the circle in a complex weave pattern. The sigil ebbed with power and brilliance, alternating between red and green in waves of chaos. 

Mike raised his head as the scenes finished, looking at the tarot reader squarely. 

The soul that now looked on with Mike Aston's eyes was far older then the young body could claim. 

"Well, what do we have here?" Mike asked, the words delivered in a singsong voice. 

The card reader knew something was not right. 

She knew something had changed. 

A smile broke across Mike's face, the muscles straining as if they hadn't been used in this fashion in some time. The wider the smile got, the more alien it seemed on Mike's stoic face. The more alien Mike seemed altogether. 

It all seemed out of place, not right, the teller thought quickly. 

"Thank you for the look into my future, dear lady, but I must be off. Things to do, demons to find, past debts to repay. You know the drill. In fact, you're well aware of the idea of debts to pay, aren't you, my dear? Anywho, I'm off!" 

And with that Mike Ashton skipped out of the room, whistling 'Zip-e-dee-do-dah' as if he didn't have a care in the world. 

'What the hell was that?!' Lorelei thought as the illusion she masked herself behind dropped. 

"Well, what a wonderful waste of time. May we go now?" Nemesis asked as she walked out from behind a curtain on the far wall. "Your kid is obviously nuts. Let someone else take care of him; we don't have time." 

"No, Eve, you don't have time. And I'm stuck to you, so you call the shots. I can't wait to kill you once this curse is lifted." 

"Keep dreaming dear," Eve smirked as they both disappeared, almost as if the shadows around them had swallowed each whole. 

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The doughnut was shoved in the Lieutenant's mouth without a second thought, the mouth swallowing the baked good whole. 

"One of these days I'm going to bust a gut when you choke on one of those things," Paul Atkins laughed, watching his partner inhale the latest six-packs of powdered doughnuts before his eyes. 

"Hardeeharhar, kid. Remember who the rookie is here, and who gets to insult whom. For example, I can get away with calling your mom a--" 

"187 found at Wright & Verge, in the alley. All units, repeat, 187 found at Wright & Verge. Nearest unit please intercept." 

Lieutenant Roger Burges looked around quickly, then radioed in their location while wiping the final doughnut from his chin. 

After a fast three-minute drive, Paul and Roger both stepped out of the patrol car to look at a scene they both wouldn't forget for a long time. 

An arm was draped over the dumpster, blood trails running up and down the skin, drops of the substance forming at the girl's fingers' tips. The large pool of blood below the arm told the two detectives that she wasn't a new arrival. This was going to be a long night. 

Roger walked forward, as Paul radioed for a cleanup crew. Throwing up the dumpster's lid, Roger almost gasped at what he saw. The base of the girl's neck was savagely ripped apart, folds of skin hanging loosely around the wound. The gash was deep; deep enough to see the victim's brains as they slowly oozed past the gouge. Roger soon figured out this was the only wound, but the damage done was severe. Then he noticed the final piece to this puzzle that made it all that more confusing. 

"Paul! Come look! The wound... it looks as if it's on top of a tattoo!" Burges gruffly called out. 

Paul sprinted forward, placing a latexseal glove over his hand. Paul liked to be safe, and Roger liked to rush in before everyone else showed up. They made for an even pair. "Don't touch the body, Roger," Paul said. 

"I keep telling you, you're the rookie." 

Paul smiled despite himself as Roger put on his gloves and inspected the corpse more closely. 

As the backup showed up, lights whirling, something at the base of the victim's neck flashed. More, reflected, Paul thought again. 

"Is that a Plug?" Paul asked. 

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DIGITAL DREAMS   
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NEXT ISSUE: Some answers, some more questions, and a lot more confusion. See you all in thirty for BLUE DEVIL:DCF #2. 


	2. Default Chapter Title

"Damn, the weather just keeps getting worse. Well, this is better then when I was growing up. Oh, the good old days. Or.. wait, those would be the days yet to happen. Or, wait.. oh ferget it. I got work to do." 

Mike Ashton was skipping through the downtown sector of New Orleans. Skipping and humming actually, when he wasn't talking to himself about temporal mechanics. 

A bloodhound is known for its ability to pick up the barest hint of a scent and immediatly change gears into tracking mode. Its haunches rise, the hairs along its back bristling as the muscles underneath flex in preperation. A paw reaches forward as it double checks the scent against its memory, discerning if it is in fact the aroma it is searching for. confident it is, the animal is off, sprinting along after the scent. 

Mike ashtons body reacted much the same way once a scent hit his nostrils. Not a scent actually, the mind controlling Mike's body reasoned, the residue of magic. 

Ashton turned his head, following with his eyes where the trail of magic lead. 

A police hover car set down on the ground a few hundred feet from Mike. It was a surprise Mike hadn't noticed the commotion beofre now, but Ashton didn't think twice about it. He watched as multiple beat officers swarmed around the scene of the crime, flashing holovision cameras here and there to begin that long search for the killer. A few detectives and higher ups stood behind the assembled crowd, talking amongst themselves, hashing out reasons for such a crime. A ambulence lauched a few seconds later, carting the dead body off to the morgue. 

"Smells like Evil Spirt." Mike whispered to himself as he relized where he remebered that smell from. the Eater of Dragons was near. 

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**BLUE DEVIL:DCF LIMITED SERIES #2   
"Evil Spirit"   
Written By: Alex Cook   
Edited By: Jason Tippitt **

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Continuity Notes: This issue takes place after the events in AJFA #10 

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"Phase two completed. Bioenginered cells are replicating three times faster then hypothized. Project completion date moved up a week. Moving on to Phase three, according to plan." 

The black mask looked at the data pad the mousy technician had just handed him. 

Mousy is almost too nice a word to use to describe the man in front of him, Justice thought to himself. How this little runt had ever gotten into the NorAm attachment to the UN, Justice will never know. There are just certain parts of the wrold that his predesscor didn't have control over. Justice just had to accept what was left to him, and make the best of it. Part of that meant listening to reports such as these. 

While Justice ran through new ways to make sure genetic wastes such as this didn't make their way into the NorAm contingent, the technician was wetting himself. Justice loomed while in a relaxed state. He sat with all the prescenes of a god, with his audience a meager subject. The technician considered his own mortyality while the global dictator contemplated the datapad again. 

After placing the aforementioned pad on the desk in front of him, Justice brought his hands together and laced his fingers against each other, resting his masked chin lightly against hid knuckles. 

"Let them continue. I would liek to see how far they get before the sentienal in charge stops them. So far it has removed two of them, lets see what else it has in mind." 

The technician mumbled an agreement, and then edged his way out of the room. Once the door slide shut behind him, his shoulders sunk as his life ran before his eyes. A common reaction to any first meeting with Justice. 

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"Atkins, Burges, why am I not surprised I'm meeting you two here?" Captain Ripley said, sarcasm laced throughout his voice. 

"Sir, Atkins and I responded to the call and arrived on the scene a few minutes before the rest of the squad. So far the MO is the same as the last body found, but this one has soemthing new. At the base of the victims skull is a tattoo, which seems to be placed over the top of a Plug. The last body also had a plug, but do to the severity of the wound inflicted, there was no sign of a tattoo. So sir, I think its safe to say, we have a serial killer on our hands." Burges finsished, the details of his report still scrolling across the datapad he had just recited from. 

Mike Ashton inched his way around the crowd of spectators, looking around to see what was going on in the center of the roped off area. the closer he got to the police tape, the more sure he was that Ek'Ting was involved somehow. The energy radiating from the area reaked of the Eater. the ancient soul working Mike's body like a puppeterr works its doll knew his goal was close. 

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Amazing. That one word keeps coming to my mind. Dreams have always been a varied and immense landscape, immesurable and beutiful. this is somthing completly different. 

I touch the mind of a 17 year old girl has she acts out what sex would be like with her current boyfriend. She doesn't knwo the VR session is being taped and will be sold on the black market within the hour. 

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Mike's cold nature had returned. No longer skipping, Mike instead hurried to his goal. A quick knock later, and he now sat in Donut's living room, contemplating what had just happened. 

"What do you mean you weren't in control?" Donut asked. He wasn't buying any of this bull. 

"It was like I was a passenger. In my own body." Mike's tone of voice showed Donut everything. Ashton was scared, an event that doesn't happen often enough. 

"Your telling me you were posessed? Don't tell me your buying into that supernatural crap! Mike, your mister logical, there is areason for everything, don't dare tell fairy tales to your child all it will do is build up false hopes that will lead to years of therapy! This is not the shit I thoguht I would EVER hear from you!" Donut said, his arms waving about to prove his point. 

Mike mearly moved his eyes up, to meet Donuts own. "Its the truth." It was the way Mike had said it. The way his face had sunk once the words were uttered, as if by admitting it, Mike was admitting to his own errors. 

Donut sat in his chair quietly has the full force of what Mike had said hit him. 

"there is more. A little over a week ago now, the night after my match against Bradley, I had a crazy dream. Or waht I thought was a dream up unitl now. I woke up and walked to the mirror, for some unknown reason, and looked in horror as I saw soemone elses face there. It looked ancient, yet new, all at the same time. The face smiled and said 'I'm you Mike.'. I fainted then, waking up sometime the next morning. I wrote the whole thing of as post game jitters, and went about my days. Nothign had changed. Nothing. Oh, how wrong I was." Mike finished, hanging his head in shame. 

Donut still sat in silence, his ability to speak gone. Shock had that effect on people. 

"Damn this day just keeps getting interesting." Donut finally said. 

"Oh really? And what could have possibly happened to you to top this?" Mike asked. 

Donut swiveled his chair, moving to show Mike the screen behind him. On it, a dialougue box blinked as a bar slowly filled up horazontinally. the words PERSONALITY COPY were etched on its top. 

"Personality Copy?? Who? How?? WHAT?" Mike actually momentarily forgot his out of body experience. A Personality Copy was one of the underground practices of VR. VERY underground. To even own a scrap of the code used in a Personality Copy was punishable by 20 years in prison. Not that many lasted in prison that long anymore. Mike's jaw hung open in disbelief. The fact that the Copy was stable enough to move from server to server shocked Mike even further. 

Donut didn't want the shock to stop however. 

"Clay." the hacker simply said. 

Mike's jaw refused to shut. 

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Binary lines arched around a furred paw, following upwards, leaveing a fron leg in its wake. soon a second Binary trail started, building up another front leg. A third and forth trail burst to life, two hind legs marking their movement. The binary trails continued their work, coding together the first avator this user has ever had. A fifth, shorter line of binary spun out a tail of scarlet fur. The lines began to move together, the torso of the animal forming in the blink of an eye. All the lines converged into one as it continued upwards, wraping up and out. The head of a fox completed the avatar, deep red fur covering the body, spotted by patches of white. 

Turning its head from side to side, the fox arched its snout up slightly to sniff the artifical air. A forest of immense beuty reached out as far as the animals eyes could see. Without a second thought, the fox was off, galloping along the woodland area. 

'I will be flesh.' The fox thought as it continued its trek across the forest. 


	3. Default Chapter Title

Colors. Images. Concepts. The building blocks of reality ebbed and flowed around the fallen warrior, their music pumping through his veins as he recovered from his wounds. He thought back to the time of his death, his first death. The actions that led him to make the deal he did. The deal that had cursed him for a hundred lifetimes since. 

"ake... up..." 

The voice filtered through the noise of creation, the algorithms of matter shattering as its words cascaded down onto his virtual ears. Wake up?, it questioned. 

The full force of his situation came to bear, his mind realizing where, exactly, he was. He was not in the Waking Lands, his host unconscious a few feet from him. Ek'Ting was not on the Waking Lands. Everything blacked out soon after that. 

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"Wake up, Mike! Get this rig off him now. Count of three, cut the connection. Mike Ashton's ebony skin glistened as beads of sweat formed on his face, his hair dripping the secretion. His eyes were closed tight, spasming as if there was a war going on in his mind. 

"One, two," Donut said, pulling the cord from Mike's skull hard as he said, "three!" 

Ashton's body convulsed, his limbs flaying slightly as his mind dealt with the sudden change of paradigms. The brain was a muscle like any other, and if it is was pushed too hard, it bruised. Pulling a user forcefully from VR had the same effect, the mental tissue bruising like a grape. Donut prayed he hadn't hurt the VR Gamer too much. 

Donut had walked into Mike's apartment a half-hour earlier, finding Mike rigged up to his VR unit, checking out the additions to the ONYX interface Donut had made he assumed. That was when the light show had started. Colors of unimaginable brilliance surrounded Mike's body as he screamed out in pain, the chaotic patterns gyrating in time with his bellows of anguish. 

Donut was scared, he'd admit later, too scared to know what to do. He was so scared he forgot that his eyes had long since stopped working. His brain hadn't processed color in years. Donut had just 'seen' a brilliant spectacle of light with a pair of eyes that did not work unless plugged into a VR machine. He called Manhunter soon after. 

Manhunter kneeled down next to Mike's head, brushing away the thick cords of dreads on top his head. Using a damp towel, Manhunter wiped away some of the sweat form Ashton's brow, waking him up in the process. 

"Where am I?" Mike asked slowly, squinting his eyes as if the little light in the room hurt him too much. 

"Getting used to asking that question, aren't ya?" Donut half-joked, his nerves shot. "You just did your impersonation of a Lite Brite a few minutes ago, kid. I've never seen anything like it, even during the use of heavy psychedelics. You were screaming like a banshee out of hell, Mike. That's why I called Manhunter here. I didn't know what else to do," Donut finished. 

Mike looked at the hacker and his employer. "Wait, you SAW this light show?" Mike asked suddenly. 

"Yeah. Why do you think I called the missus? She sees crazy shit all the time. Me, I'm not supposed to see ANYTHING, much less you lit up like a Christmas tree," Donut said, bringing his hand to rest under his chin, propping his head against the appendage. 

"Are you okay, Mike?" Manhunter's electronic-filtered voice asked, a hint of sincerity in her words. "Donut has a flair for the dramatic, but he was pretty spooked when I talked to him. I came by to see what was up. Care to help us fill in a few blanks?" 

"Why are you here, to begin with?" Mike answered with a question, trying to get a grasp on everything that was happening around him. 

"Oh. Nearly forgot." Donut pulled a datapad from his pouch, punching a few buttons before throwing the apparatus at Mike's feet. "Seems a mutual friend of ours has turned up dead. The back of her neck ripped apart." 

The dumpster. The lifeless hand dangling from under its lid as police officers scurried around the scene of the crime. The scent of magic. Evil Magic. 

The flood of images assaulted Mike's body, his muscles constricting as his mind was fed more and more data. Manhunter tried to hold him down, to calm him, although she had no clue what the cause of such a violent attack was. Donut just looked on, dumbfounded, lost as much as his partner was. Mike's breathing turned more normal, his heart rate dropping as the images subsided. 

"Shit. The one in the dumpster," Mike said, to no one in particular. 

"That's what I assumed. Remember AcEnSiOn? Well, that was her, dead as a doornail in that back alley you stumbled into. Or you watched yourself stumble into. I'm still really confused how that whole part worked. This spontaneous production of light from every orifice on your body ain't helping to clear that up." Donut looked at Mike, noticing he wasn't alone in his clueless nature. 

"Well, turns out they found her with her plug ripped from her neck. That was the only wound, but part of her brain was taken out in the process, leaving our little friend in the non-mobile category. Did a little checking, and three more bodies have turned up with wounds following the same MO, one before the garbage incident, two after it." 

"Mary. AcEnSiOn's name was Mary," Mike said. 

Manhunter looked on from behind her mask, unsure how to comfort either of the men in front of her. 

"Mary Adams, lived on then lower side of New Orleans. Top- Ranking VR Games Champ, same division as you, Mike. I know she was a friend of yours. That's why I came by. I hardly leave the cave I call a home, but I knew you'd want to hear this in person rather than over a teline. Seems this news is of little worth, considering what the hell just happened. What *did* happen, Mike?" 

"I have no idea," Mike said simply. He was getting used to not knowing what was happening. The structured pace his life had always taken was being disrupted, and part of him seemed almost happy for something new. Perhaps this was the beginning of a new adventure, he thought to himself, as he remembered the ancient man screaming the name Ek'Ting. Perhaps this was more than any adventure young Ashton could have ever dreamed of. 

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**BLUE DEVIL:DCF #3   
"Reckoning, or, Heroes Don't Always Win"  
Written by: Alex 'BioHaz' Cook  
Edited by: Jason Tippitt **

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They are all dead. I'm all that's left. 

The thought was a mantra in the young women's mind as her hands secured the cords to the VR interface in front of her. A flick of a switch later, and the binary lines of VR rushed to meet her. Her cheerleader avatar shimmered into place, replacing her stumpy round form with an athletic build and frame. Twin pompoms seemed to follow her wherever she walked. 

They are all dead. I'm all that's left. 

Then get to work, the other half of her brain answered. 

"Computer, play model #45623.Alpha. Commence." 

Ones and zeros swirled in the digital landscape around her, spiraling around each other to form a sickening bulge of flesh, its hide riddled with circuitry of all sorts. 

"Beginning Phase Five. For you, Gramps," she said, the last part a whisper as she began working. 

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They are all dead. One more to go. 

The thought was one of gratification. It had nearly completed its quest. Soon it would be flesh. Just one more soul to devour. 

Its furred fox paws ran the cyberscape around it, tracking its prey to the far reaches of virtual reality. 

10010011 00110010 01010101 

Atkins stared at his screen dumbfounded. The NOPD mainframe had been hacked, a log of files being accessed and downloaded scrolling before Atkins' eyes. The hacker had stolen every single case file Atkins and his partner had concerning the serial killer they were hunting down. Mentally, one by one, Atkins verified each file accessed by the intruder. Sure enough, he was the owner of all the files. The hacker had attacked him personally, not just the NOPD mainframe. This meant war as far as Atkins was concerned. 

He reached for the phone and rang up the Chief. "Atkins here. I need a VR intrusion team, stat. We've been hacked," he reported. Atkins vowed to hunt the little fucker down. 

10010011 00110010 01010101 

"They are all dead? All five of them?" Mike questioned, reading the screen in front of him carefully. 

"No. One is still unaccounted for. Seems this group Mary fell in with had some odd ideas on what virtual reality really was. This group was bordering on a cult, but they didn't have enough members. The odd thing, as if this wasn't odd enough, was the different occupations these five hailed from. First victim, bioengineer. Mary, VR specialist, sought out for her ability to code VR constructs. Third victim, twenty-something Goth kid, heightened intelligence, specializing in bionics as a hobby. Fourth victim, young kid, 14, who lists neuroelectrical interface design among his specialties. Seems these five were cooking up something. I've only found a few coded messages, and the little I've unencrypted is freaky," Donut answered, his voice ushered through the teline connection between his 'cave' and Mike's flat. The hacker thought back to how easy it was to access Atkins' computer behind the NOPD mainframe while Mike digested the information. 

"So who is the fifth member?" Mike asked. 

"JerriAnn Wight. AI specialist and bioelectrical engineer," Donut commented, pulling up whatever personal files his many connections on the Net could find. A few of those connections would have even Justice salivating. 

"So we find JerriAnn, we find the killer," Mike said, preparing his ONYX interface for a little recon. 

"Isn't this all coming together a little easily?" Donut questioned while transferring the pertinent files to Mike's ONYX box. 

"Seems that way, but there has to be a correlation between my out-of-body experience and this series of killings. You have any other ideas?" Mike asked his hacker friend. 

"I hate it when you make sense," was all Donut said as he cut the teline. 

10010011 00110010 01010101 

They are all dead. All but one. Just one more soul, and it will be complete. 

The scaled talons accessed the line of data as an afterthought, searching for any indication his opponent had found a host yet. The demon had been awake for a few weeks now, and the bastard should have risen as well. Hondu would be on the hunt, of this Ek'Ting was sure. The demon just didn't know how long it would take him to find out Ek'Ting was in VR and not on the Waking Lands. Finding no indication of his whereabouts being found, Ek'Ting left the cyberscape he inhabited. 

Time to prepare the church for the coming of the Lord, the demon thought as he traveled elsewhere. 

10010011 00110010 01010101 

"Jerri?" the blue devilish form called out into the quiet cyberscape, his words echoing in the digital landscape. 

Blue Devil flexed his hand, a keyboard forming in front of him. His fingers plucked away at the keys effortlessly, a screen of data scrolling in front of his eyes. 

Onto the next stop, Mike thought as his avatar faded from the cyberscape. 

10010011 00110010 01010101 

ACCESSING.  
ACCESSING...  
ACCESSING.....  
ACCESSING.......  
AI ONLINE, V. 3.4562  
DIAGNOSTIC CHECK COMMENCTING.....  


"Yes!" the cheerleader, JerriAnn, breathed a sigh of relief. It was online. The code had worked. Now just a few more tests to see if it was all running smoothly, and she would be home free. 

SUBROUTINE CACHE ONLINE, 100%  
MOTOR SKILLS ONLINE, 100%  
PERSONALITY TEMPLATE ONLINE, 99%  
MAIN OS OPERATING, 100%  
SYSTEM RUNNING AT OPTIMAL LEVELS  


JerriAnn almost went to cross herself, but stopped with her hand half raised to her face. Its over, she thought. I finished. 

"Not soon enough, dear," a voice in the distance said. 

JerriAnn spun around on her feet in time to see a fox leaping at her, its mouth wide open, saliva dripping of its teeth. 

The digital spirit made little work of JerriAnn's jugular, ripping at the cartilage as a child would pull apart its toys to see how much damage it could take. Its paws shredded the girl's avatar, ripping away the digital facade like paper. Screams of pain and fear were music to the fox's ears as it continued to feast, eating the very life force from the girl beneath its paws. 

The Japanese glyph flashed with energy, sparks of power edging its form. The image spiraled around the fox as it continued to massacre the girl. Soon, the girl lost the will to fight, instead slipping on to the afterlife. The glyph disappeared soon after. 

It's over, it thought. I finished. 

"Not quite," a voice in the distance said. 

Binary birthed forth from the ground, a reptilian shape left in its wake, a bloodlust gleam in its dark eyes at it looked at the fox before it. 

"Ek'Ting," it growled, its haunches raising as the muscles along its back rippled. 

Ek'Ting paid the spirit little attention, instead walking over to the construct JerriAnn had been working on before she was murdered. Brushing it gently, Ek'Ting could feel his champion was ready. 

"You performed excellently, little fox. You followed the glyph around to the ends of the earth, and then into VR. You killed each of the five that bore your mark, just has you have for thousands of years," Ek'Ting commented, looking over at the fox. 

"These where not my stock. I did not mark them," The Fox answered, wondering where this was leading. 

"No, you didn't. I did. And you killed them all, just like I wanted," Ek'Ting said, its reptile-like face almost cracking as it smiled. 

"I care little for your schemes, Eater. I wish to have a body, that is all. I have completed the steps according to the ritual; now fulfill your part of the bargain." Fox said, wanting to be far from here at that moment. 

"Oh, I will. I will," Ek'Ting answered, his smile falling into a leering smirk. 

Pain lanced throughout Fox's form, shaking him to his very bones, if he had any. Slowly, his form began to unravel, small patches of fur dissipating into binary strings of data disappearing into the cyberscape. The pain only increased. Ek'Ting's smile only increased. 

"See, dear Fox, it was not you on the hunt for a body. It was I on the hunt for a soul. You just happened to be the most likely candidate. I needed a spirit with magical essence, but not one so powerful his destruction would merit any investigations," Ek'Ting informed the Fox. 

Binary lines still ripped apart his digital form, the pain doubling and tripling with each passing moment. The ability to speak was all but lost. "This was... all... a... trick?" the spirit growled, not giving his opponent the pleasure of seeing him howl in pain. 

"Yes. A trick to trap your soul in this," at which point he waved towards the grotesque construct his five followers had created for him, "facsimile of a human being. This world, this digital creation of man, limits me, binds me to its laws. I need someone on the outside, out in the Waking Lands, and you will become that person. You will become the spark of a soul that will allow this bioengineered thing to actually think and act." 

The Fox's avatar was mostly destroyed; all that remained was his head, floating eye-to-eye with Ek'Ting's. "I will make you... pay... Eater..." it said, forcing the words past the pain. 

"If you ever remember it, I'm sure you will," Ek'Ting said, waving his hand over the Fox's head, watching as the last remnant of his spirit disappeared from virtual reality. 

10010011 00110010 01010101 

BZZZ BZZZ 

Blue Devil reached to his ear, opening the connection to Donut's personal communication array. 

"Yeah," Mike said as he traveled yet another cyberscape JerriAnn was known to frequent. 

"She's dead. They just called in the report. Found still strapped into her rig, her body shredded from the neck down," Donut said, being blunt with the news rather then pulling his punch. 

Blue Devil grimaced as he realized he had just lost the only lead he knew of to finding some answers about what exactly had been happening to him. Whoever had killed those five people had something to do with it all, and Blue Devil wanted to know what. He silently mourned JerriAnn's passing, apologizing for not arriving in time. This train of thought lead to others, but they were of little importance now. The grief of knowing Mike had lost was enough to keep his mind occupied. 

10010011 00110010 01010101 

"Awaken, my warrior." The words came from no one within the burnt and scarred cathedral. 

The soot and black marks of the flames passing still stained the sides of the house of worship, the burnt smell still hanging heavy in the air. This was a place no god would visit. A demon would, but no god. 

PROGRAM BOOTING...  
PROGRAM ONLINE, AI INTIATING....  


The eyes opened, the dead soul behind them looking around its new home. Thin cords of flesh and tissue, with layers of electronics throughout it, fell from the ceiling, connecting with the new arrival's head, finding holes in scabs and pus-filled blisters. Lights of all colors came on soon after, more thin cords of flesh connecting to the man as he sat up in a battered pew toward the center of the church. He looked at himself, noticing the dead texture of his skin, the lack of hair on his body, and the amazing amount of power running through his new form. 

Ek'Ting looked through his champion's eyes as it walked around the church, the Eater's talons accessing datanodes here and there to monitor the new arrival. The man looked up, following the cords of tissue until his eyes came to rest on the cocoon-like shape affixed to the ceiling of the church. Microchips and resistors of all sizes and varieties covered the surface, the transparent skin showing more of the same inside the beast. 

"Instructions?" the undead man asked the air. 

"All in good time, my pet. All in good time," Ek'Ting answered from his cyberscape in virtual reality. 

10010011 00110010 01010101   
DIGITAL DREAMS  
10010011 00110010 01010101 

All right, that's it, that's all. Not a lot of answers given, but that was the plan from the beginning. Blue Devil is a story about finding one's place in the world. Throw in a demon, virtual reality, and a few hackers, and then you have the basic premise of Blue Devil:DCF. However, this will not be an easy story to follow. I hate easy stories. Instead, this will be one of those multi-plotline bastards that people attempt to guess the outcome of. 

The key players are still gathering their forces, as shown here. Mike Ashton is just now learning of his new partner in life, and they still haven't actually met. Clay is being transferred into a lizard's body as I type this. Ss'Ha is still out there, waiting to see Ek'Ting's next move. The one-shot and this LS are showing those moves, but I can promise you we are still a little ways off from where I would consider the beginning of this tale. There are quite a few things I have to set up first before I can get into the meat of what I have planned for this series. 

Stay with me, though, and I promise you an awesome ride. This series will borrow and lend some elements to/from the new Wonder Woman:DCF series I'll be penning, so look for more clues over there as well. That's it, kiddies, thanx for reading, and let me know what you thought if you feel inclined to do so. 

send any comments to hazardous_designs@yahoo.com 


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